O Holy Father Divine Provider Grant me my prayer All I desire
It's been a long, long time since you faced the truth You haven't heard the voice of god since your wasted youth Faith of your father, holy faith In the dollar almighty and the tithing plate
And you'd like to rub my face in it Your god, your god And you'd like to rub my face in it Your god, your god, your god is Mammon
Pew after pew in the house of the lord Nod their heads at the sermon while they mind the store And their holiest book is a PDA It's got god's cell number if you find time to pray
And you'd like to rub their face in it Your god, your god Even though you have no faith in it Your god is Mammon, your god is dead
And you rage and fume at the godless ones Cause they don't understand how the company runs And they think it's the money that you care about You pretend to be offended when they figure it out Tell me what kind of heaven do you think awaits When your ass is too fat to fit the pearly gates? It's like the eye of a needle and a limosine Paradise is set aside for the less obscene You only care for the power that the lucre brings And you have no love for any living thing, save Mammon
And you'd like to rub our face in itTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.